


The Sun & The Moon [english version]

by saphique



Category: The Worst Witch (TV 2017), The Worst Witch - All Media Types
Genre: Ada being the Sun, F/F, Hackle, Hecate being the Moon, Lesbian witches in love, Smut with Love, True Love, mentions of body hair if it offends well im not sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-23
Updated: 2017-12-23
Packaged: 2019-02-19 03:29:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13115058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saphique/pseuds/saphique
Summary: Ada is the Sun, boiling and enveloping, and Hecate is the Moon, cold and reassuring.The body of Ada Cackle is chubby, soft to the touch like a juicy peach, fluffy as the tasty flesh of a mango, scented as brightly as freshly baked cookies, as hot as an afternoon coffee, as plump as an excellent piece of warm bread.The body of Hecate Hardbroom is the opposite. As sharp as the thorns of an untouchable rose, it is slender, skeletal but robust.Her hair is as dark as the black curtains of the night. Her slender legs are of a whiteness equal to the reflection of the Moon.





	The Sun & The Moon [english version]

**Author's Note:**

> This is my Holiday Present to my lovely Hackle shippers.  
> No beta, I'm sorry for any mistakes.

Hecate Hardbroom is resting in the personal quarters of Ada Cackle. The teachers sit in front of the crackling fireplace and Ada nibbles a biscuit.

Hecate Hardbroom does not often eat sweets. She does not crave it, since she has the privilege of being able to make love with Ada Cackle.

Ada Cackle never deprives herself of any ritual of gluttony. Every day, she allows herself her favourite pleasures, that is to say pastries; sugar saturated tea; wrapped candies that can quickly be unwrapped and brought to her mouth when her taste buds crave carbohydrates; pieces of chocolate that easily melt against her palate; her cream covered fingers she wraps with her pink lips.

Hecate loves how Ada's gluttony reflects in her bright eyes. Her eyes are always full of affection and tenderness, but when she savours her candies, additional sparks appear.

Ada breathes and emanates sugar. Sometimes Hecate is convinced that they are immersed in a bottle of nectar, as it is currently happening in this office. Hecate can sense sugar perfumes vibrating in their relaxation bubble.

Hecate is completely crazy about those moments of sugar drunkenness, when Ada has eaten so much that she seems intoxicated, floating in a state of absolute bliss. But, her greediness does not stop. Ada is sometimes insatiable, to the great pleasure of Hecate. Ada looks like a beautiful plump cat near a fireplace, she purrs and squirms from anticipation by placing her eyes full of desire on the narrow silhouette of Hecate. Mischievously, Ada lengthens her leg and caresses her foot inside the ankle of Hecate. And it is completely impossible, absolutely impossible, for Hecate to refuse these visual invitations to transform into intimate encounters, when Ada looks like a wonderful cinnamon bun waiting to be devoured. Hecate activates the transference spells directly to their chambers.

\--

The body of Ada Cackle is chubby, soft to the touch like a juicy peach, fluffy as the tasty flesh of a mango, scented as brightly as freshly baked cookies, as hot as an afternoon coffee, as plump as an excellent piece of warm bread.

Ada's eyes are blue like the summer sky and the words that come out of her mouth are as kind and healing as the smiles she offers so easily. Her white hair reminds Hecate of these breakthroughs of sunbeam on rainy days. Her body-hair is almost non-existent, all is softness and soft curves. Her voice embodies the exquisite syrups, sticky and sweet, that Ada likes to pours with delicacy but without restraint.

The body of Hecate Hardbroom is the opposite. As sharp as the thorns of an untouchable rose, it is slender, skeletal but robust.

Her hair is as dark as the black curtains of the night. Her slender legs are of a whiteness equal to the reflection of the Moon. Her calves and armpits are sparse with soft body hair similar to the tenuousness of a black cat's fur. Her eyes present a depth worthy of the secret hollows of distant mountains. The tone of her voice is cavernous, powerful, deep, and her breath is as delectable as a bitter chocolate. The redness of her lips is equal to the purity of a rare flower. Her movements are refined, posed, like a cat ready to pounce and the details of her face are so pronounced, so easy to remember and revisit again and again.

Ada is the Sun, boiling and enveloping, and Hecate is the Moon, cold and reassuring.

Beneath these seemingly incompatible exteriors, Ada and Hecate are profoundly alike. Their hearts are fuelled by the same values, their destinies look in the same direction. Their observations incite curiosity, and their conversations inspire knowledge, and their exchanges nourish their intelligence.

Ada loves sexual sweetness. Her sweet body requires tender affection, slow strokes, delicious and endless caresses. Ada needs to savor the touch of her lover and she needs to be tasted. And it's Hecate who helped her discover it.

Ada prefers to lie comfortably on her back, surrounded by a mountain of pillows, as if she floats on enormous clouds that carry her high, even higher, even higher ... while the slender figure of Hecate is lying between her legs, her mouth against her pink, sweetly moist mounds, keeping her close to her on Earth.

Ada loves to slide her fingers between Hecate's hair, as long as the firmament. She loves to feel them tickle the sweetness of her belly, wrap the inside of her thighs, like an autumn rain, running down her legs. She likes to admire the thick eyebrows of Hecate (usually so severe) change shape to express pleasure. Ada also likes that the skillful hands of Hecate, so distinguished they are probably carved from the marble, touch her hips with a melodiousness that tickles. Her nose as sharp as a crow's beak takes refuge in her subtle pubis. But what Ada glorifies above all is the moans of pleasure that Hecate lets out when her working longue taste Ada's wetness. With enthusiasm and delicacy, Hecate is lapping her vulva with velvety licks. She drinks the excitement of Ada like sweet juices. When she sucks her clit with all the attention of the world, when she plunges her talented tongue into her sex to drink again and again, moaning always, always, as if she could not control herself ... this is accurately when Ada reaches her orgasm.

When Ada comes, she sincerely believes that Hecate manages to reach the eternal Sun that lives in her center, because Ada feels herself burning, burning with all the energy available. Ada believes that the Moon that is Hecate travels her interiors with its lunar coldness to bring her burning body back to its normal state, a complete tranquility, a perfect balance.

Hecate, the rose with thorns, the light ray of the Moon, needs to express her sexuality with a fiery love. The body of Hecate requires eagerness and ardour worthy of their mutual trust. The rigorous Hecate badly needs a more frantic pace to relieve her of the tension accumulated in her whole being. And it's Ada who helped her to accept this part of herself.

Hecate likes speed and precipitation. She loves the moment when the Sun pushes her roughly on the stomach and she shudders with her whole body when she feels the soft hands of Ada who crumple sharply the bottom of her dress to pull up the fabric up to her thighs, revealing the nudity of her trembling legs. The imperfections of her skin is equivalent to the beautiful craters of the Moon. Her heart beats at a high rate when Ada plunges one hand into her long hair to keep her head against the mattress, and Hecate loses her mind when Ada's other generous hand slither on the wetness accumulated between her thighs. Hecate's sex is a mixture of scarlet color and a pinkish gray, like a precious stone that shines in the darkness of the dark bush. And knowing that a diamond is solid and unbreakable, Ada knows that all the ecstasy of their love could never hurt her. Then, following the intensity of Hecate's grunts of despairs, her undeniable needs to be penetrated by the Sun, Ada slides two fingers firmly in Hecate, in and out, without interval, again, again, again ... With each penetration of her fingers, Ada is persuaded to reach the plumy button of a magical flower, and at each whimper of enjoyment of Hecate, a floral scent is scattered on their sweaty bodies.

When Hecate hears Ada's pleasing voice, above her near her ear, who murmurs compliments and encouragements, Hecate must close her eyes because the Sun is blinding with love, dazzling all that is close to them. The weighty breasts of the Sun heats with a shared pleasure the slender backbone of the Moon. At that moment, Ada is biting Hecate's neck under the abundance of her hair, who instantly reaches orgasm with an intensity that may seem worrying, as if a meteorite collided with the Moon. Hecate's whole-body writhes with ecstasy and wonder. Hecate roars powerfully under the weight of her lover as she comes.

Back down on Earth, Hecate turns around and takes refuge in Ada's arms, trying to find a more normal breathing. Her scarlet lips show a serene smile, while her heavy eyelids are called by slumber. As for Ada, completely satisfied, she quietly falls asleep.

Hecate Hardbroom is convinced that she is the luckiest witch in existence, because she is in love with the Sun, with a woman so sweet that she can restore world peace with a smile. Hecate is happy to be able to twirl around Ada Cackle's orbit.

Ada Cackle, for her part, is convinced that the center of the universe is, in reality, the earth's lonely Moon. Its ancestral craters demonstrate victorious and honourable fights. Ada is happy to be able to perceive all the hidden facets of Hecate Hardbroom.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote all of this in French first. I'm still surprised I can't find the appropriate words in English to distinguish "cheveux" (hair on the head) and "poil" (any other 'hair' on the body), and since there are not appropriate words in English to distinguish "mou" (not firm) and "doux" (soft to the touch), I've decided to also publish my original story in french, if you are curious :)


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